A Death in the Family
by DrunkenTavern
Summary: One of Private's relatives mysteriously dies, and his Uncle Nigel is convinced it wasn't because of natural causes.
1. Chapter 1

**A Death in the Family** – Panacea447 (Drunken Tavern Elites)

Disclaimer: I do not own the Penguins of Madagascar

_**I**_

"Mail!" announced Kowalski over the din of Saturday lunch time.

He held a stack of envelopes, a few packages, and a new edition of 'Mad Science Weekly'. He handed the envelopes and packages to Private before settling on down on his own seat and opening the magazine.

"You do realize we can't read Kowalski?" asked Private earnestly as he eyed the mail.

"In my case, I still like the pretty pictures" replied the intellectual, his face still obscured by the magazine. "But in yours I already ran it through Phil and Mason. The envelopes and packages all contain birthday greetings, well wishes and the occasional stuffed present from all our neighbors -"

Kowalski's next words were drowned by a roar of delight from Rico as Skipper pulled out four tuna-stuffed pies from Marlene's package.

"Fish! FISH!" squealed the maniac as Skipper eyed the birthday card that came with it and handed it to Private.

"Oh Marlene, you shouldn't have." said Private, smiling at the photo of him and the otter.

Skipper was busily extracting the cards while Rico drooled on the pies Marlene gave. Skipper snorted loudly as he handed the next card to Private. Upon inspection, the card depicted Julien in an elegant pose upon his throne.

"Well that's Ringtail for you." said Skipper casually, handing the next package to Private. "But it looks like Mort and Maurice can redeem him this time."

Private dug into the package to find an exquisitely crafted wooden figurine of himself within. The penguin was about to exclaim in glee when he felt a trickle of hot liquid on his leg. He looked down to see Rico staring up at him with beady eyes. "Pweez, pweez!"

"Wha-? Oh sure Rico, help yourself."

With a roar of satisfaction, Rico buried his beak into one of the pies as Skipper continued to hand him the rest of his birthday cards and presents: a feather-pillow from the flamingos, casted footprints from Roy and Burt, bananas from the gorillas, a large bag of Peanut Butter Winkies from the badgers, a hand-crafted boomerang from Joey, and birthday cards from the rest.

"Er, Kowalski, what's this one say?" asked Private as he held out a postcard.

"Ah, I was getting to that one. Your Uncle Nigel is coming to visit today."

"Uncle Nigel?" Skipper piped up. "You do mean Super-Secret Special Agent Nigel right?"

"Of course, unless I have another uncle named Nigel, I think he's the one."

"Right then! I want this HQ to be spruced up from top to bottom, left to right, topsy to turvy, until it's fit enough for a Special Agent like Private's uncle. Now get to it!"

"Ay-ay!" called Rico as he regurgitated a mop and a bucket.

"But Skipper, I don't think it's necessary!" said Private, hobbling to Skipper's side.

"Nonsense Private! Besides, our HQ doesn't even look like an HQ. Rico, polish those missiles. Kowalski, put your best weapon inventions on display!"

"Skipper, forgive me for the irrationality, but considering all of my inventions are the best, which one?"

"The one that doesn't explode when you touch it! Understand?"

"That would be the Anti-Matter Cannon 7000 and the Microwave Ray" muttered Kowalski to himself as he dashed off to the lab.

"Skipper, really, it's not necessary! Uncle Nigel isn't that much of a Tidy Willy."

Private's complaints, however, fall on deaf ear-holes, with everybody concerned about Uncle Nigel's visit, and soon, they fall on none. Private exits the habitat momentarily to clear his head in the water. It has been a year since his Uncle Nigel's last and most significant visit, and Private had no problem admitting to anyone that he missed his uncle. Now, on his birthday, the news of Uncle Nigel's visit was worth a lot more than all those presents combined. He never had the time to ever have a proper conversation with his Uncle, who, as far as he knew, is his last living relative. It's been years since he's ever seen his family. He vaguely remembers his parents, and how strangely they acted at times, especially towards him.

As Private reminisced, he heard a sharp shattering sound followed by Skipper roars of anger. Deciding he spent enough time in the water, he surfaced and leapt up. Sighing heavily, he descended down the hatch and into a place he didn't recognize. It looked more of a war memorial museum than the habitat Private lived in. Dozens of weapon racks decorated the walls, some of them Private recognized as Kowalski's inventions, the floor was carpeted, and instead of seeing the plaque of his first prize, he found a fireplace with a stack of logs crackling with the blaze within. Rico was licking off the dirt on the Anti-Matter Cannon; Kowalski was aligning the decorations down to the slightest angle, and Skipper was in the middle of the room, barking instructions to the two.

Still awed, Private made his way over to Kowalski, who was carefully balancing himself on one toe planted on a stool while using a magnifying lens to gently align the rocket launchers to achieve symmetry with the rest of the room.

"Kowalski, er, why are you doing all this?"

"Isn't it obvious Private? With your Uncle coming to visit our shamble of an abode we knew we had to spruce things up."

"But why?"

"Oh, right, you're looking at it from your perspective." muttered Kowalski as he gently set himself down and put away the stool he was standing on. "Well, you see Private, your Uncle is now the best special agent known to penguinkind, ever since Buck Rockgut's nervous breakdown of course. So as his nephew, you may not view him as the best penguin secret agent ever; perhaps you simply view him as your uncle. But to us, Special Agent Nigel coming to visit is having the most famous celebrity ever in our home!"

"Oh, I see. Well, don't you think it's a little – er – too much?"

"As Skipper said earlier, 'nonsense, Private'. Personally, I find our habitat still horribly under expectations."

Private's gaze drifted off to Rico attaching brightly colored balloons to the mantle of the fireplace, and Skipper placing a banner with a birthday cake emblazoned on it on it.

"That should do it!" said Kowalski as he lay his magnifying lens down on the table beside him.

"Kowalski, don't you think you're all a little – er – obsessed about my uncle?"

"Oh Private, your uncle's visit is as much a blessing to you as it is for us. I mean, when will you ever get the chance to meet your own hero?"

"Well besides you, I've always wanted to meet Paul McCartney and Elton John. I don't really understand what they're singing about but it sounds heavenly."

"Exactly, but instead of you, it's us, and instead of those people, it's Special Agent Nigel."

Private's mouth opened to make a quip, but silenced himself as he heard a rapping on the metal hatch, followed by a voice that sparked much joy within him.

"Hello? Private? I'm here."


	2. Chapter 2

**A Death in the Family** – Panacea447 (Drunken Tavern Elites)

Disclaimer: I do not own the Penguins of Madagascar

_**II**_

"Private! Happy birthday my dear boy." said Special Agent Nigel as he pulled his nephew into an embrace.

"Thank you!" replied Private, returning the hug with more enthusiasm than his uncle. "Oh it's good to see you again Uncle Nigel!"

"It really is him!" squealed Kowalski giddily. "Special Agent Nigel is in our home!"

"I know right?" giggled Skipper, bouncing on his feet.

"Well, well now, what's all this then?" exclaimed Nigel as he eyed every inch of the habitat. "Looks like you've gone all out for your birthday!"

"Well – er – about that…" began Private weakly, but the rest of his voice died down as he caught that manic, crazed glint in his friend's eyes.

"Absolutely exquisite!" yelled Nigel as he pat Private's back with a hearty chuckle. "And here I was thinking you gave up your cover. Even during your own birthday you make everything look so childish and innocent!"

"Yes, exactly." said Private, laughing weakly, looking at the three other penguins almost apologetically.

"Well, now that I'm sure I cannot possibly taken for a secret agent in this ludicrous environment, I think it is safe to inform you of the true purpose of my visit."

"Inform? Inform me what?" asked Private curiously, wrenching his gaze away from the trio whispering eagerly among themselves.

"You see Private, as much as I'd like to set aside my work and celebrate your birthday, unfortunately I must put my duty first." said Nigel with a sigh. "And that duty is towards our family."

"What is it? What's happened?" Private hobbled over to his uncle, genuinely concerned.

"It appears one of our own fell mysteriously ill and passed away exactly four hours and twenty-five minutes after. I was able to recover his body before I crossed the pond to come see you."

The room fell into silence as the frantic whispers as to who was first to get an autographed missile launcher ceased.

"One of our own?" asked Private curiously. This meant that Uncle Nigel wasn't his only living relative. If he could only spend more time with his uncle, he might be able to learn more of his family. His mind started filling with questions. "Who is it?" he asked instead.

"It's your father's uncle's grandfather's friend's nephew's son's neighbor's granddaughter's goldfish." said Nigel sadly.

"Not Rupert!" cried Private sharply.

"Yes, Rupert." nodded Nigel in bitter agreement.

Private suddenly felt empty inside. The vague memories of his then-tiny flippers reaching into the fishbowl to pet it exploded with full force that he was forced to lower himself to the ground and sit lest he collapse. Distant memories of him curling up next to the fishbowl at night now made him feel sick. In the presence of his Uncle Nigel, it took all of his willpower to fight back the whimper that struggled to escape his beak.

"My dear boy, you are taking this quite fairly, and here I was thinking you'd burst into whimpers and squeals like the lasses!" said Nigel as he sat down next to Private and rewarded him with a pat on the back.

"Who, Private?" called Skipper. "He can barely even take sight of those actors in those soap operas of his on a hospital bed!"

"And I suppose that's where you learned it then Private!" Nigel exclaimed proudly. "Nothing like watching a little blood and violence to sharpen those senses of yours."

Skipper opened his mouth to retort when Kowalski and Rico pulled him back, shaking their heads. Skipper silenced himself, remembering who he was about to retort to.

"The second point of my visit, young Private, is to ask your commanding officer's permission to allow you to accompany me back to London and attend Rupert's funeral."

All thoughts of the dead goldfish vanished as Private considered the prospect of spending even more time than he had originally hoped for with his Uncle Nigel. A trip back to his home country with Uncle Nigel and he would have all his questions answered.

"Of course Uncle Nigel, of course." exclaimed Private happily, but then paused. "Provided Skipper allows me to."

All eyes turned to Skipper, who didn't even hesitate to answer. "Yeah you can go Private. I mean, who am I to mess up a family matter? Enjoy your trip to London."

"You really mean it Skipper?"

"Yeah, I do. Now get going."

"Oh thank you Skipper!" yelled Private as he ran over to Skipper and hugged him, with the commando returning it halfheartedly.

"Don't worry Commander, it will only be for a week, and Private will be back servicing the squad to the fullest of his potential, just like his uncle." promised Nigel with a genuine look of pride at his nephew.

Within twenty minutes, Private said his goodbyes to his teammates and was on the roof of a tourist bus headed to LaGuardia Airport with Uncle Nigel beside him. He was more excited about this than anything else. It took all of his self-control not to blabber all his questions at his uncle. He learned from Kowalski that patience is more important now, and that all his questions will be answered in time. Despite this, his mind was buzzing with questions. As his self-control threatened to explode over the prospect of finally meeting his family, even during a funeral, the bus suddenly screeched to a halt. Private jerked himself back into consciousness, looking below him to see puffs of white smoke billowing from the side of the bus.

"Well, doesn't this put a dent in my neat timetable?" complained Nigel as he pulled out a golden pocket watch. "If things aren't all dandy in the next two and a half minutes, we'll have to find another ride."

Private's reassurance was cut off by push from his uncle just as raven shot through the space Private was occupying a split-second ago.

"I wonder if that bird is injured or really just has bad manners." sighed Private as he righted himself.

"I highly doubt the former dear lad." muttered Nigel as he watched the bird swing around and performed a dive right in their direction. "But I strongly agree with the latter."

Private watched in horror as the black bird twisted in mid-dive and aimed its razor-sharp talons at his uncle, who flipped and spin-kicked the back of the raven's head. A sharp cry of pain echoed from the she-raven as she plummeted to the sleek surface of the bus' roof. Upon further investigation, Private saw that the bird's feathers were neatly preened, and noticed a triangular piece of red-colored cloth tied around her neck with a golden hammer-and-sickle symbol on it. Compassionate as ever, Private walked over to the fallen bird, only to be tackled by Agent Nigel as four more ravens swooped down on him.

"No time to finish her off now boy!" cried Nigel as he dodged one of the raven's deadly dives, and then grabbed her tail feathers and slammed her down next to her companion.

"Right Uncle Nigel!" said Private as he stifled the whimper at the sight of one of the ravens diving towards him.

No, not towards him, but to the fallen ravens. Dodging his clumsy strike, she swooped down on one of the unconscious birds and clamped her beak down on the neckerchief. Two of the remaining three ravens did the same with their moaning companion, while the other relentlessly attacked Agent Nigel.

Private watched, stunned as his uncle weaved flawlessly in and out of each strike before countering with one of his own, which his opponent was barely able to parry herself. She caught a glance from the lone raven struggling with her load and flew over to assist her after carelessly throwing a smoke bomb at Agent Nigel. As the smoke cleared, the ravens had flown off into the night.

"What was all that about?" cried Private as he helped his uncle out of the thinning smoke cloud.

"As I suspected." said Nigel, more to himself than to Private.

"Suspect what?" asked Private as the bus began to move again.

"Nothing to worry about Private." said his uncle quickly, sitting down as if they weren't just attacked. "We'll be arriving at the airport soon. Best you catch a few winks."

Private didn't feel sleepy at all, but nevertheless ceased pressing on the issue. Not too long ago he was wondering what his family would be like, but now all he could think of was as if someone didn't want him to meet them at all.


End file.
